I've Got No Strings
by Chocoomba
Summary: He was a Puppet, always being manipulated accordingly to how his puppeteer wanted him to act. But all it takes is something sharp, an extra pair of hands and a little bit of love to cut him free from his strings.


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_'__I__'ve got no strings__  
__T__o__ hold me down__  
__T__o__ make me fret, or make me frown__  
__I __h__ad strings__  
__B__u__t now I'm free__  
__T__h__ere are no strings on me'_

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A dark, wretched voice boomed from seemingly every direction at once, the sound reverberating against the walls of his own darkness that encased him,

"_You are poison..._

_Polluting every heart you dare to touch..."_ it said to him.

Cloud Strife felt sick to his stomach.

Never before had he experienced a stronger desire to double over and expulse the contents of his insides or at least so that he could divert his eyes from hollow grey ones, staring without seeing into his own aquamarine optics, but his body was deaf to his commands.

Someone else was pulling the strings attached to his limbs.

Never before had he wished for solitude while inside this prison of darkness. Because tonight, he wasn't alone. There was another body in here with him – hanging listlessly with the Buster Sword that Cloud kept in trembling hands impaled through the chest, effectively keeping the body airborne.

The body of a man he knew far too well. A man he depended on far too much...

...And his darkness was far too aware of that fact.

"_Will you be a good puppet and come to me...?_

_Or will your selfishness claim yet another __**victim**__!?"_

Cloud awoke with a start, out of breath and his body covered in a film of cold sweat. His eyes immediately darted to the left where he found the leader of the Restoration Committee sleeping soundly with his back turned towards him. Cloud lifted the covers and lightly slid his fingers along his lover's back and shoulder-blades, sighing in relief at the distinct lacking presence of a sword wound.

However, the tension in his shoulders sustained and he ran a shaky hand through his ashen face as he sat up more properly in the bed he shared with Leon. He knew better by now than to assume that his dream was just another nightmare out to torment him – a ghost of his past infused with the present.

It was a warning, a harbinger of his conjoined darkness approaching.

Horrid mental images of the possible consequences that could eventuate his friends and allies would they get caught in the crossfire, piled together with those still fresh from his dream, invaded his brain and he quickly made a decision so to not drive himself insane from the notions:

He had to leave.

Barely had the thought even entered his mind before his body sprung into action; His movements hurried yet soundless and almost mechanical in the way he made quick work of getting dressed, snatching his sword from where he'd left it the night before, leaning against the wall, and made for the door.

Hesitating as he reached for the doorknob he glanced back at his still slumbering lover. He didn't want to wake Leon, who was most likely exhausted seeing as he hadn't budged an inch despite all the ruckus around him, but he felt guilty leaving without saying his goodbyes.

Without a sound, he sidled back to stand next to the bed and bent over his lover's face, placing a single tender kiss to his forehead and let his lips linger against warm skin for a moment before pulling back.

It took him by surprise when Leon suddenly coughed and wheezed, his eyebrows creasing together in discomfort as one of his hands shot up to grasp at Cloud's wrist. He trailed his own arm with his eyes until they fell on the belonging hand whose fingers were wrapped around the older man's throat, squeezing his windpipe tighter and_ tighter_.

Cloud pulled his hand away as if it'd been burned and held it close to his chest, staring at it with pure disbelief painted over his visage before it turned into that of rage.

"Ugh... Fuck you...!" He hissed through clenched teeth to seemingly no one in particular. His whole body trembled in pain at the sudden pressure spreading throughout his body, tugging forcefully at his arms and fingers and urging him to lift his weapon above his head and aim it.

Just like he had done in his nightmare.

An inner struggle over the control of the blonde's body commenced as his darkness embraced him for the second time on this cold night of autumn. "I'm... doing what you want...", specks of black stained his vision and a feeling of numbness started at his toes and spread up his legs, "..._So leave him alone!_"

The pressure let up. He had triumphed over his own darkness thanks to willpower alone and for a moment, he could breathe again. Could _see_ again. And if he wasn't resolute before he certainly was it now.

He_ had _to leave_._

Not even bothering to keep the noise to a minimum any longer, he rushed down the stairs and the cold night air smacked him in the face when he almost ripped the front door off its hinges. All the while, repeating his settlement in his head like a mantra.

_He had to leave!_

"You're leaving again."

Cloud stopped dead in his tracks and his heart skipped a beat at the husky voice of his lover, the wood underneath his feet creaking with each step as he made his way down the stairs.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Cloud responded from where he stood, on the threshold that separated the warmth of their house from the blistering rain of the outside, with his back turned towards the other man. His own voice sounding taut and slightly labored as he fought against invisible threads pulling at his limbs impatiently. The pure emotional gravitational force that was Leon the only thing keeping him from stepping forward, closing the door behind him and moving on without looking back.

Instead, he found himself stuck in limbo between the tractions coming from his Beloved and those from his Adversary.

"You wasn't exactly stealthy..."

Cloud didn't answer but tightened his grip around the door frame as well as the handle of his weapon, which he held in his other hand, until his knuckles turned white. He had to concentrate to keep himself rooted in place as the strength behind the strings intensified.

But Leon would be a hypocrite if he let the absence of rejoinder deter him from talking. "...When will you be back?"

The last syllable had barely rolled off Leon's tongue before an answer popped out of Cloud.

"When **HE **is dead." His puppeteer_. His blight_.

Leon went silent and for a moment Cloud thought that their conversation had ended, until he felt two naked arms encircle his chest from behind and a warm cheek rest against his back.

"..._Will_ you be back?"

It wasn't that Leon doubted in Cloud's abilities. But rather, he doubted the universe would release its hold of the two men, connected by their darkness, who were trapped in an eternal loop of conflict and suffering.

And Cloud was very well aware of that fact.

"I'm not gonna make a promise that I can't keep." Cloud replied, screwing up his eyes tightly as he tried to repel the flood of bad memories, threatening to break free, of all the promises he had reneged on in his past. There was no way he would risk having to add another one to that stack.

Not even for Leon.

The older man was quiet for several minutes, contemplating the implications of that statement, before he squeezed the blonde's chest tighter and said:

"Then I'll make one in your stead. I promise that I'll be here waiting for you. So _when_ you come back, you always know where to find me."

And just like that, his strings were cut.

Why was it so easy for Leon to disentangle the blonde from the darkness' hold on him when the task had proven impossible for everyone else in his past?

With a loud bang, Cloud's sword slipped from his waning grip and its heavy weight hit the floorboards. A muted sigh in relief escaped his lips as all the tension drained from his muscles and he would've fallen flat on his face if it wasn't for Leon's strong arms holding him up.

It took a while for him to regain some of his bearings but once he did he twisted around in the embrace and returned it in equal urgency, pressing his face into the junction between Leon's neck and shoulder. He wished to savor this moment. Because, even though he knew that the strings that governed him would re-attach themselves before long, it wasn't often in his life that he got to experience this feeling of deliverance.

His entire body racked with fatigue and unshed sobs as he felt Leon rub soothing circles along his back, as if he was comforting a fearful child rather than a grown man. It made Cloud feel a bit foolish but he appreciated the effort none the less.

Because in all truth, Cloud was terrified.

It wasn't that he was scared of the Dark. And he didn't fear the Heartless. Not even Sephiroth, although he was alarming, was the cause behind the terror that stirred inside of the blonde at any waking moment.

… He was terrified of _himself_.

What he was capable of but above all what he was_ in_capable of.

He had failed to protect his best friend. Or his first love. And now his everyday was filled with apprehension for the day when he wouldn't be able to protect Leon to befall them.

He was incapable of protecting anyone. Instead, everyone he loved died protecting _him _in one way or another.

His darkness was right... He _was_ poison, polluting every heart he dared to touch... And that terrified him more than anything.

But that was also why he kept on fighting.

Cloud pressed a hard kiss to the older man's lips before pulling back and looking him straight in the eye, his new-found strength feeding on the light that he found there.

He still had to leave. But not because it was the mindless directives forced upon him by an Evil Puppetmaster, pulling mercilessly at his strings.

He had to leave because, despite his performed ineptitude from past records, as long as there was but a sliver of light left in this world worth protecting; Cloud Strife would never back down from the challenge to preserve it.

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_'__Y__ou've got no strings__**  
**C__omme ci comme ca__**  
**Y__our savoire-faire is ooh la la!__**  
**I__'ve got strings__**  
**B__ut entre nous__**  
**I__'d cut my strings for you'_

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(**A/N**:

I've never written like this before but felt like giving it a try.

I'm not... entirely happy with this... But I wrote it so I figured I may as well share it. After all, I've been eager to contribute to this fandom for a while now and, if anything, I'm happy to make it seem a little less empty over here.

It's really weird suddenly writing fictitiously again after having written nothing but academic papers and boring-ass reports for three years! It will probably take me a few stories before I get the hang of it and develop a more appropriate writing style...

The lyrics are from the song "I've got no strings" originating from the Disney adaptation of Pinocchio.

Any and all thoughts or constructive suggestions are welcomed.

Cheers!)


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